


The wings of the First King

by DrEtoile



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, Amputation, Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, POV Multiple, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25565401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrEtoile/pseuds/DrEtoile
Summary: Noctis always found it weird that the stuffed framed wings in the treasure room of the Citadel were the one of the Founder. While all the wings in his line were jet-blacks, those ones were of the purest white, even with their seemingly old age. Moreover, why would the Founder King want to have his wings exposed? Why wouldn’t he want them buried with him?For all these reasons, he thought that those white ones were fakes, or only for show. But his father reprimanded him every time he said that.When he learned who Ardyn was truly, when he saw his back marred with scars and the marks on his shoulder blades, it started coming together.“Come here. I have something to show you.”He wanted to confirm it.AU where the Lucis Caelum were born with wings.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ardyn Izunia & Somnus Lucis Caelum
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	The wings of the First King

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all !  
> This is my first post on this fandom and on this platform in general. I always apprehended writing down the things going on in my head properly but I finally tried it out. It was more an exercise for myself, but I also wanted to share it to help the fandom keep on living (I am really thirsty for angsty Ardyn fics).  
> So, welcome in my dark world.

“That’s what I thought. They were yours, weren’t they.”

He could not voice a word in front of what he was seeing. He could not detach his gaze from it either. Something so familiar, something that he thought long gone. Something that was part of him, something that he had to give up in a pool of blood.

“They were mine… But I lost them… A long time ago”.

\--

Noctis didn’t try to question the man even further. Even if he did, he was totally oblivious of his presence now, lost in his thoughts. His lips were trembling, and his hands were curled into fists. Anger flashed into golden eyes, mixed with sadness and nostalgia. Noctis could get why. Just imagining being in his place made his own wings twitch under his skin. Not knowing what to say to soothe his pain, he turned to exit the treasure room, to leave the man some time alone.

Before closing the door behind him, he risked a last glance inside. On the wall, the framed pure, enormous, white wings were still there. Like they always been. Too big to be a human’s wings, he used to think, they took the entire length of the wall they are suspending on.

Ardyn was kneeled before them, his frame shaking, his arms wrapped around him, hands tightly gripping his shoulder blades.

There was an old plate on the frame.

_“The wings of the First King”._

He closed the door. A few seconds later, he could hear a yell from the other side.

* * *

Voices, shouts, pain, pain, pain.

His mind was blurry. He tried to switch but his whole body was hurting. He knew there were people around him, but he couldn’t figure what they were saying, what they were doing, how many they were. However, one voice was standing out above the others, cold and harsh.

“Your wings. Spread them.”

_Don’t do as he says. No matter what happen, don’t do it._

This was the only thought left on his mind, the rest being engulfed by pain and despair.

\--

“Don’t make me dig them from your flesh”.

Threats made no effect either. Frowning, Somnus made a sign to one of his guard who bowed and left.

He looked back at the ruined form in the center of the room. Messy, dirty red hair were hiding his face, rags were covering his body from the waist down, leaving his chest bare, rising and falling erratically. His wrists were tightly wrapped in chains, above his head, hooked to the ceiling so that he could only unsteadily rest on his tiptoes as his ankles were also tied together by heavy chains. Bruises, cuts and burns marred his body, some of his bones and ribs were broken.

The guard came back and handed him a scourge. He took the weapon and placed himself before the chained figure. He lifted his chin with the tip of the handle so he could see his face and make sure that he heard him when he gave his last warning.

“Last chance. Take them out, now.”

Unfocused, drained yellow eyes met his own. His lips parted and it looked as if it took an enormous effort to form those words.

“Please… Brother…”

His sentence ended with a whimper as he was hit directly on the face with the scourge’s handle. How dare he beg for mercy. How dare he call him his brother after what he had done. He gripped a handful of crimson hair and pulled it as hard as he could, tearing moans from the daemon, meeting his corrupted eyes once again.

“You deserve it.”

Letting go of his grip, he went to place himself behind the monster and ran the leather thongs on his back, caressing the two big marks on his shoulder blades. He could feel him trembling and his breathing becoming even more chaotic.

A loud sound echoed in the room followed by a scream as he hit one of these marks with the scourge. He didn’t even put all of his strength but the hanging deamon was already shifting and jerking as much as the chains let him to, gasping for air and moaning pitifully. Another hit, stronger than the previous one made him lose balance on his feet and hang only by his wrists.

For them, winged people, this part on their back was particularly sensitive because it contained their fragile wings. He won’t last long. As long as his wings are concealed under his flesh, he would only feel inexorable agony and containing them will be more and more straining and difficult.

Another hit was blown. Then another one. Then countless ones. After each of them, a cry cracked the room followed by the rattle of chains.

“Why are you resisting? Don’t you realize that you are only prolonging your sufferings?” He shouts at the creature.

Panting heavily, whole body tense and shaking, he was on the verge of giving in. His mind must be focused solely on fighting the urge of releasing what was making him suffer. That he lasted this long showed a big amount of mental strength and self-control, that Somnus must admit. But it was ending now.

He ran the tip of his fingers on the surface of the marks, earning a hiss. Black, thick blood was oozing from the many cuts covering his back. In some places, the flesh was flayed deeply and Somnus could faintly discern white feathers, eager to be freed. He gripped one of his shoulder blades and twisted it, ignoring the screams and focusing on how the wings reacted. He could feel them twitching under his skin harder and harder, so close, _so close,_ to their release.

He let go and turned to his men.

“Prepare yourselves. It should be soon.”

He strengthened his grip around the scourge’s handle and hit the daemon’s back as hard as he could. Another scream, but most importantly convulsions on the back gave him the information he needed. Satisfied, he took some steps back.

At last he was giving in.

From the two bloodied marks two wings emerged suddenly, making Somnus and his men stepping back even more. Because those wings were _huge_. Immaculate, white and way too big for the frame of their owner. The room barely had enough space to contain them, making them take an awkward position. He could hear gasps of awe from his men, astonished by the sight in front of them.

But what filled Somnus was not awe but a sad feeling of nostalgia. Nothing of it showed on his face but seeing those familiar white feathers took him back. Took him back when everything was alright. When those wings would make him feel safe, protecting him, reassuring him. And now he was about to take those wings away from his older brother.

* * *

They were alone in this world, different but standing proud. They could only do it because they were supporting each other. They were born from normal parents, though apparently one of their ancestors once bore wings, but they were loved even with their abnormality.

As a kid, Somnus hated his wings. Concealing them under his skin was no easy for a young growing boy: he would feel restrained and suffocated. But letting them out put him in trouble with other kids: he would be stared at or even bullied because of his difference. Being called a monster.

“You are not a monster. You have been blessed by the Astrals”.

The familiar and sweet voice of his brother calmed him, making him gulp down a sob. He hugged his brother back, resting his head on his chest, tears still flowing down on his face. White wings surrounded him, as if they wanted to protect him from his fears. He tried to grab them with his tiny hand. He loved them, they were so pretty. So different from his own jet-black wings. They seemed so big compared to his, but he thought that was because his brother was taller and older than him.

“Why don’t you hide them? You can do it easily, right?” The younger one asked.

“They are my pride, and so should be yours.”

Oh how he wanted to spread them proudly too.

He was able to do it only a few years later. That did come little by little, with the support of his brother and when he reached adulthood his wings were permanently standing gloriously on his back. He came to like their obsidian raven-like color and they grew big enough for his stature. He could stand on his own now, his brother being too busy since he discovered his “gift”. The only time he saw him, he was tired and pensive. Then he left to cure some more people. Further and further away, being away for longer and longer. Little by little, his brother was taken from him.

Unlike him, the older was barely spreading his wings anymore.

* * *

Years later, commanding armies of hundreds of men, Somnus was respected and nicknamed “The black Angel of war”. Finally, people came to love and admire his special feature, treating him like a divinity. At last, all these cruel years as a child, discriminated and hated because of his difference were paid back.

He made a sign to his men, flapped his wings, and took off. They were strong and allowed him to fly at great speed for a long time, which made them incredibly useful on the battlefield. Now above the trees, he began scanning the area and finally found what he was looking for. He made another sign to his men on the ground and went ahead.

He landed gracefully on a clearing and took his great sword out of his armiger. The deamons in front of him screamed and froze on the spot, surprised by his sudden apparition. But someone was already beside them.

“Don’t you dare, Somnus.” Orders the man, kneeled next to the monsters.

“Move away, Ardyn.”

His brother was also well known in the region. Famous for his curing ability and his kindness, people loved him, especially in this context of disease and misfortune.

“They are infected. They should be eliminated before they spread the disease.”

“You know very well that I cannot let you do that”.

He knew that his brother did not approve any of his methods. He knew that he was trapped in his self-made fantasy where he could cure anyone on their star. Foolish. Stupid. Delusional.

Under his eyes, he saw the black scourge leaving their hosts and entering his brother. He saw how the sick regain their color. He saw the happiness and the gratitude in their eyes. Another life was saved, that was by no doubt something wonderful. But that was wrong.

Ardyn got up, facing his brother. He thought that the latter didn’t notice how he almost stumbled. He thought he didn’t notice how tired he was, how old he looked for his age. That was wrong.

His men came but that was useless now, the former affected were running away already. There was no point on chasing them anymore. Only the healer was left in the clearing. Somnus stepped in so he would stand face to face to his brother, spreading his black wings in an intimidating manner. He looked him in the eyes, giving him his cold and ruthless gaze. 

“You cannot not keep on doing this forever Ardyn. You should stop and leave the rest to me.”

“So you can burn them all down? Ha! Yes, I’ll sure love that!” He answered mockingly. How can he not see his point?

“Don’t you understand? This is too much for you to handle! The scourge is spreading faster and faster. We have to stop it and you cannot cure them all alone, brother, there is no way…”

“It is my duty given by the gods to save those people! I cannot stand there and let them die while I can do something about it!”

His white wings suddenly spread behind him, imitating the intimidating pose the youngest’s ones were taking. With their size however, they were far more impressive and dominating. Somnus’ men were fascinated, he could hear them. He hated how his own wings seemed so small and fragile in comparison.

His brother’s wings always have been a little too big for him. When they were children, they thought it would become more proportional when he will grow but it went worse and worse. When they both reached adulthood, Ardyn’s wings were at least two time bigger than his younger brother’s.

However, that didn’t come without a price. Maintaining them out of his body and using them required a big amount of energy. Too big for him to handle, too heavy for him to lift. And now that he has been weakened by his healing, he could barely use them anymore. People used to love seeing him flying, going from place to place to help the afflicted, watching the two enormous wings flap in the sky. Now seeing them was an extremely rare sight and they became more a legend than nothing else.

Even though he tried to hide it and tried to stand proud, Somnus could see the strain on his face. Just spreading them made him out of breath. Pitiful.

When did he come to hate those wings? Was it because they were hurting his brother or was it because they were so much prettier and majestic than his own?

* * *

When the crystal rejected his brother and when he turned into a monster, Somnus couldn’t let the thing he has become posses those wings. Couldn’t let something this cursed bear something this divine and gorgeous.

_“You are not a monster. You have been blessed by the astrals”._

What his brother said a long time ago resonated in him.

Fuck this.

He is a monster.

He doesn’t deserve them.

* * *

“Grab them, quick. Before he puts them away.”

Countless hands gripped him, forcing him to submission. He hissed from pain when the hands stretched his wings behind his back. They were so sensitive that a single press on them could make him flinch, so being treated this way was excruciating. He could not fight the hands, even if he wanted to, he didn’t have the strength for anyway.

Releasing his wings removed a tremendous burden on his body, making his mind clear again, but doing so with the few amount of energy he had in store left him short breathed and drained. But at least he could see now, he could feel his senses again, he could think again. He could discern the cold metallic noise of chain. He could get what they wanted to do. He could apprehend what was coming for him.

_No. Please don’t do it. I don’t want to lose them. I don’t want to, I beg you._

“No… I beg you…” Was all he could manage to say. But that plea fell on deaf ears. 

He screamed when he felt cold, hard hooks piercing his skin all along the upper part of his wings, immobilizing him totally. They dig them one by one, trying them out every time by pulling them once they are in his flesh, totally ignoring his cries.

When they finally were done, he was panting and sweating. His wings were completely hooked to the ceiling, maintained spread out behind him like a pinned butterfly, in an uncomfortable, painful position. He tried to shift into a more comfortable one, but the shoot of pain caused by his movements stopped him right away from doing so.

“Please… Don’t… Somnus…”

A crystalline sound echoed. The sound of an Armiger. No. No way.

“No… No please don’t!”

Fear took him and ignoring the sharp pain, he twisted in his chains, putting a last futile struggle, as if it could save him.

“Be still.” The order came with a direct hit on his face, so strong that it stunned him.

“N..No… No….” Was all he could say, miserably, as if his brother would listen to him. Like he used to.

He heard steps walking around him. Then, a hand pressed on his head, forcing him to bend his neck down as much as possible. He closed his eyes. He clenched his teeth.

A sharp sound of a sword. Screams so loud and so long that could have iced veins. Blood. Pain. Pain.

 _Pain_.

\--

When he struck his brother, Somnus thought about their time as kids. When he used to love those wings.

It is over now.

“Now you are as a monster should be. Bound to the earth”.

The room became silent, if not for a long wail.

* * *

He erased his own brother from history, he imprisoned him in a cold place. What possibly worse can he do? He tried to make himself a reason, thinking that he wasn’t his brother anymore, that a monster took his place. Now that he was king and building his own country, he didn’t have the time for reminiscence. Now that _he took the throne from him_.

But his wings were still here with him. He couldn’t burn them down, so he ordered them to be stuffed and framed. Every time he looked at them, everything he did came back at him in a storm of guilt. Even if everyone forgot about him, he wouldn’t.

“So…” Asked his craftsman, “What would you like to add on the frame?”

“A plate. With a name for them.”

“What would that be?”

He thought about it for a long time. He couldn’t erase what he had done, he couldn’t stop the prophecy in place. But he could make a part of his brother live on.

“The wings of the First King.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!  
> You may have notice but English is not my mothertongue. I really wanted to try writing in English but that became quickly frustrating because on how less I could express myself than in my first language. So I hope to improve even more! Feel free to tell me what you thought about it!


End file.
